Underpowered
by Trainmaster64
Summary: Back from the Dieselworks newly repaired, Dennis tries to resume shunting in the yards. The trucks, however, have other ideas, and it's not long before Dennis realizes his limitations. The others have their own theories on Dennis' performance, based on past experiences...


Dennis the diesel engine had returned from a long sojourn in the Dieselworks. His transmission had kept catching and stalling, resulting in very difficult operations for both engine and crew. After thorough examination, he had had the old unit removed and replaced with a fresh unit from Maybach.

"This unit is much better than your old transmission," the Fat Controller had declared when the job was finished. "This new transmission is hydraulic, not mechanical – it will be much smoother than before when shifting gears."

"We fitted this… attached… well, what I mean to say is –"

"What Den means to say is that we put this type of transmission into Norman a while back," Dart quickly interjected.

"Which means that your problems should be cured," the Fat Controller finished grandly.

Dennis had been pleased with the end results. He was a lazy engine by nature (his twin Norman was harder-working at times but still retained a bit of laziness at others) but even he had his limits to idleness. Sitting in a cramped and dark Dieselworks, no matter how grand it had finally become, was tiring after a while, and a bit of work to stretch his well-rested wheels would be just the ticket.

* * *

After returning to the goods yards and sending Thomas and Rosie away ("Blimey! Who'd have thought they'd end up together?" he had declared when he had found out what had happened in his absence), Dennis was back to work before long. Many trains came in and out, and Dennis was responsible for making sure the right trains left at the right times.

It was not too long before Dennis was beginning to fall back into his old habits of laziness. To be fair, the work was long and quite tedious at times. Certain trains needed to be arranged in just the right order, while others could be arranged in any fashion so long as all the stock was present. Dennis tried his best to remain ever vigilant and constant in his dedication, but soon enough the diesel shunter was slipping by.

The other engines were first happy to have Dennis back among them, but after a while they began to complain about his attitude and lack of attention to his work. Gordon was, as usual, the loudest and most obnoxious in his comments.

"Oh, for the days when this yard had a PROPER shunting engine. That Dennis is so slow – I could do the job faster myself!"

"Does that mean you'd rather be a tank engine, then?" James said innocently, and the other engines snorted with laughter as Gordon fumed.

"Absolutely not, little James. I only meant that any of us would be able to work harder and faster than Dennis – why can't we have a proper shunting engine like Thomas or Duck? I ask you, what did we do to deserve such a horrid shunter?"

The other engines protested, but only weakly – they too had seen Dennis firsthand, and understood very well how unfortunate it was that Dennis had no work ethic to speak of. It seemed that Dennis was always lazing about or slacking off, when he should have been working.

Hiro, always the engine with the words of wisdom to give, had his own thoughts on the situation: "It seems, my friends, that our young Dennis is, how do you say, too self-centered. He likes himself too much, and wants others to do his work for him. He feels that he is above such work sometimes."

"Thank you, Sigmund," James muttered under his breath. Hiro shot him a glare, before continuing.

"However, I also feel he is an engine who is afraid of too much work, like any of us… we all dislike an excess of hard work. Dennis, however, simply refuses to do more than required, where the rest of us will push through and get the work done."

The other engines had to agree – Dennis could work when he wanted to, and he was a decent shunter when he was on his game. The only problem was that he usually lazed about, rather than actually working.

"I still think we need a more reliable shunter," Gordon muttered to himself. "At least one that isn't going to sit around on his wheels all day long, while WE do the real work…"

None of them noticed a small diesel shunter sitting in the sidings – a red diesel that looked remarkably like Dennis in shape. Cringing slightly as he listened to the others, he quickly sidled away before the engines within heard him and found him out.

* * *

Dennis was relaxing in a siding. After he had shunted a pair of vans into a slow goods train due out later that day, he had decided to take a break… even though he had really not done much else prior to that point.

Norman rolled up, looking slightly concerned. "Brother. I need a word."

Dennis grunted as he dozed in the sun, to show that he was listening.

"Dennis! Pay attention, brother. I fear your recent lapse of judgment will come back to strike you down."

Another grunt came from Dennis.

"WAKE UP!"

Dennis finally opened one eye, scowling at his twin. "Cor! What do you want now, Norman?"

"You, to get back to work, brother. The engines have been talking amongst themselves. I fear that you may be in trouble for failing to get to work."

"I always am," Dennis muttered sleepily. "What's the difference this time?"

"The difference, you sod, is that there is a plethora of engines ready and willing to supersede you should you fail to perform admirably."

"English, Norman."

Norman looked affronted. "My Dennis, this is the Queen's English."

"Well, I'm not the ruddy Queen, am I? Tell me plain and simple – what's the problem? I get my work done like everyone else."

"Not all the time, and not as well as everyone would like. There are many other engines on Sodor besides you… and they are all harder-working than you. I fear that if the Fat Controller has to speak to you about your laziness again, it will be the last time."

Now Dennis understood – "You're telling me he'd actually get rid of me? He can't!"

"And what, may I ask, is to stop him? Your work ethic? The vast number of engines able to take your place? Get back to work, while you still have your work to do," Norman whispered as he rolled away.

Dennis said no more. He had a lot to think about.

* * *

Over the next week, the engines noted a significant change in Dennis' attitude towards work. The trains were all arranged to time if not earlier, and Dennis himself was working harder than they had thought was possible. He was usually the first engine up in the mornings, and one of the last to go to sleep in the evenings. The change was welcome to everyone, who in turn began to treat Dennis nicer… although Gordon still had his reservations about him.

One evening, Dennis was preparing to shunt Gordon's Express to Platform 1, where he would then manoeuver James' stopping train onto the middle road out. This operation was not particularly difficult, but did take time and care. Dennis was on top form as he glided into the yards, cruising at a steady but safe speed with the Express carriages.

"Hah! Look at me, I'm Gordon the Express Engine!" he laughed, and a few of the other engines laughed too. Gordon scowled.

Then, it all seemed to happen at once. Dennis jolted and stuttered for a moment, bumping the coaches hard. He rolled into the yards looking surprised and confused.

"Hey, you!" Gordon called angrily. "Don't bump my coaches! They're the pride of the carriage fleet on Sodor – I'll have your buffers if you damage them!"

"Probably missed a knotted coupling and pulled it free," James said knowingly. "I know that's happened to me on occasion. He just needs to take better care next time."

Hiro was the only engine who noticed a small patch of fluid on the sleepers, near where Dennis had jolted sharply. Glancing at the fluid and then at Dennis, a grim look grew upon his aged face as he puffed out with his freight.

* * *

The Fat Controller gazed out of his office window, looking at his engines. Henry was running a fast freight service through, while Molly was simmering quietly with a waiting stopping train to Maron. Dennis was trundling along in the yards, while Gordon grandly eased his way into Platform 1. It was sheer poetry in action.

Then, a sharp knock on the door turned his attention away from the window; turning back to his desk, he watched as the Inspector entered his office. He looked a bit stressed from something, which the Fat Controller noticed immediately. "What's wrong? What's happened this time?"

The Inspector looked grim. "It would seem as if Dennis is up to his old standards again," he said with a trace of sarcasm. "He's been getting a bit too complacent in his work again."

The Fat Controller was surprised. "I would have thought that Dennis had learned his lesson. His performance had improved so much – his whole attitude had seemed to change."

"Apparently not, sir. I've got a copy of his efficiency reports and timings right here – judge for yourself."

After reading the paperwork and examining the charts for a few minutes, the Fat Controller looked back up, his face now stern. "This has been going on for the last fortnight? Why haven't I been told about this before now?"

"We tried to let the matter resolve on its own, sir – the other engines aren't happy with it either. They've tried to get him to work harder, but his performance still seems to be lacking. We've also agreed that it couldn't be his mechanics – he was only into the Dieselworks about a month ago."

"And what does Dennis himself say?"

"The usual – he claims that he's working as hard as he can, and that the trains are simply getting heavier – they're not. Sir, I believe that Dennis is simply falling back into his old habits."

"Then, the question is upon what we do now. We will have to speak to him, and suggest the possibility of sc–"

The office was rocked by a bang, which echoed across the yards and through the town. Car alarms in the car park went off, and old ladies in town dropped their shopping. The two men were knocked to the floor of the office.

Quickly, however, they were back on their feet and in a state of intense alarm. The Fat Controller's security personnel swarmed into the room, checking to see that the head of the railway was all right.

"We're fine, we're fine," he said impatiently, brushing off his suit jacket. "That sounded like it came from the goods yards. We had better see what that was – that could be very serious indeed, depending on what cargo is present at this point…"

* * *

Soon enough, the problem became clear. Dennis was smouldering in the goods yard – he had suffered a severe engine failure. His sides were blackened with smoke and debris, while a faint plume still rose from him. The diesel was moaning softly as the cool wind helped to soothe his wounds. It was clear that he had suffered immense pain.

"Dennis! What on earth's happened here?"

Dennis merely whimpered, unsure of what to say. In truth, he had no explanation for what had happened. He had merely been wishing for a rest for his aching wheels, and suddenly he had felt an intense pain shoot through his entire system before the explosion. Carefully, Dennis explained as much to the Fat Controller.

"It would seem that you wanted a rest, and have gotten one after all," the Fat Controller said simply. His face showed little remorse. "I've heard of your recent lapse into your old ways, Dennis."

"But sir," protested Dennis, "it wasn't my fault. I was –"

"No tales. I won't have it. Engines work hard on my railway, and they certainly don't try to get out of some honest work."

"But SIR!" Dennis cried, trying to vouch his innocence. "It wasn't my fault, sir! I tried to shunt the wagons – it's just too heavy for me!"

"Nonsense – the trains were the same length and weight as ever."

"I still struggled, sir – please, believe me."

"Hmm… I just don't know… Inspector," he called, turning away from the stricken engine. "Have this engine moved to the sidings near the Goods Sheds. I have thinking to do, as well as some paperwork…"

Turning on his heel, he strode swiftly out of the yards, seemingly ignoring Dennis' repeated pleas for understanding and trust.

* * *

Dennis was resting in the sidings, afraid of what the Fat Controller would say. He knew that he would surely get the sack any moment now, and despite his attitude to work, he truly loved living on Sodor – he was unsure if he would be able to say goodbye.

More to the point, he was worried about what would happen to him if he was withdrawn from service here. He had been built some years ago on the Mainland, to an experimental design in the South, and had been sold cheaply when it was discovered he was unable to do the work required… the Fat Controller had worked out the flaws in his design, enough to be able to produce Norman from what they had learned. Dennis, as the original, was still at risk, however – no other railway would want him, he knew, and he realized that if he were withdrawn now it could potentially be the end for himself.

"Norman was right," he thought to himself. "I am lazy. I'm too lazy for my own good, and now it's come back to haunt me. No one believes me. Why should they?"

"Because it was not your fault."

Dennis jumped; he had not realized he was speaking out loud, nor that there was anyone nearby. "Hiro! What're you doing here?"

"I am here to clear your name, Dennis. You were not at fault for this accident."

"Yes I was; don't everyone know it. I'm lazy and useless – you all complain about it constantly. These past few weeks, I've been slacking off on my work, and now its bit me in my rear couplings. I've been lazy and slack, and now I may be sent away for it."

"It was not your fault, Dennis – it was your transmission."

"No, Hiro – this was my fault. I've been too lazy. I've always been a very lazy engine, and now it's come back and bitten me where I deserve it. I'm just lazy; I always have been."

"Yes, you have been. That does not mean that you are to blame for this. Your transmission was broken, Dennis. Do you remember when you bumped the Express coaches a few weeks back?"

Dennis thought to himself; he did remember how Gordon had complained about the coaches… and how he had begun to move slower each day… it started to become more of an effort… "You're right! Hiro, it WAS my transmission! It blew up on me! That's why…"

"Partly," Hiro reminded him. "You are still a very lazy engine, Dennis. It will take a very long time for you to clear your name. It will not be an easy thing for you to do. Can you do it?"

"Watch me," said Dennis proudly. "I'll do the best I can for everyone."

"Excellent," Hiro said briskly. "Now, I must leave. The Fat Controller will want to speak with you, and I have trains to pull. Make sure you do better at being really useful, Dennis – it is hard to get there, but it is worth the extra effort."

Dennis thought about Hiro's words long after the old engine had departed. He thought about them after the Fat Controller had spoken to him, and told him how the accident had not been his fault. He even thought about them while he was being repaired at the Dieselworks (prompting strange looks from Den and Dart when they tried to talk to him, and received no answers).

Dennis knew that he had to prove himself useful once more. He had to show that he was no longer lazy – he was proud, and strong, and really useful.

* * *

"POOP POOP! Where are my coaches?"

Gordon was waiting in the station yards impatiently – his train was not ready yet, and he and the passengers were waiting impatiently as Dennis arranged them into place. The diesel was desperately trying to make up for lost ground, and prove how useful he could be as he worked feverishly. With the train being slightly late, however, things were not looking up for him at all.

A further whistle from Gordon, and Dennis had finally moved the coaches into place behind him. Without even pausing, he was off to the next task, busily shunting some trucks for James to take out, before working on moving Molly's train into position. The little diesel was working harder than he had ever before.

"My, my… he's really working harder now, isn't he…" Molly whispered to James, as she waited for him. "It's like that new trans… t-trans… what is it, again?"

"Trainsmission… I think… anyways, it's not that; he just seems to be trying now. He never used to, right?"

"It's still nice to see, at any rate," Molly huffed as she prepared to leave with her train. "I like it."

If Dennis had heard any of this, he pretended not to have; he was busy shunting and working the yards with great haste and diligence. Trucks and coaches were gliding in and out with ease, as he roared around the yards quickly and efficiently. Not one engine could say anything bad about him anymore… except for Gordon, it would seem.

Then, Dennis noticed something wrong with Gordon's brake coach at the end of his Express. The shunter had forgotten to couple the carriage properly to the end of the train… and Gordon was about to depart… Knowing what would happen immediately, Dennis raced to the scene to try to stop the mighty Pacific from leaving. "GORDON! STOP!"

Gordon snorted, either not hearing or not caring, as he strained to pull the heavy train out of the station. The coaches rattled behind him, everyone unaware of the faulty coach coupling until too late. With a sharp snap, the coupling broke apart as the brake coach began to roll slower and slower than the rest of the train.

Acting quickly, Dennis roared up to the coach, buffering up to it and pushing hard to catch Gordon. "GORDON! STOP! Oh my good… STOP!"

Gordon's driver looked back, and gasped. "Crikey! Stop, Gordon, unless you want to pull a 'Thomas!'" Quickly, he applied the brakes as Gordon finally looked back and groaned. Now they knew why Dennis had been shouting and calling for them.

Unfortunately, Dennis' brakes were slightly faulty, and as he approached the slowing Express he found he was unable to stop immediately. With a bump, he and the brake coach collided with the train, shocking and jolting the entire train and frightening the passengers. Fortunately, he had not been travelling fast enough to cause any damage, and no one had gotten hurt – but Gordon was livid, and Dennis in deep shame.

This was it. He knew it. Dennis knew he had failed this time – bumping the Express as he had, he knew he was sure to be in big trouble this time. Things had gone completely wrong – he knew now that he would end here, a failure in all senses of the word…

But the Fat Controller had his own opinions, as Dennis found out soon enough. "Well done, Dennis. You prevented the Express from losing its brake coach, and saved a lot of bother and hassle for us all. That transmission of yours must be stronger than we thought. Very nice job."

"But… but sir… I failed again… I bumped the Express…"

"Faulty brakes, Dennis; could happen to any engine. You have done well for yourself."

"So…" Dennis could scarce dare to hope. "… does this mean I'm… not going to b-be scrapped?"

"Scrapped?" The Fat Controller boomed. "Perish the thought! You're far too valuable as our yard shunter here! You'll never be scrapped as long as you keep proving yourself here!"

Dennis beamed with triumph; he couldn't hear what he was saying next, for he was hooting his horn loudly in celebration. He couldn't hear Gordon's mumbled apology and congratulations, nor could he hear the others whistling and hooting their cheers and congratulations for him; he was lost in his own mind and celebration of his glorious and triumphant success.

These days, you will often find Dennis hard at work in the yards at Tidmouth. He is still prone to laziness every now and again, because he is that sort of an engine, but more often than not Dennis is a hard-working and loyal engine, who is always willing to help his friends and prove himself as the Really Useful Engine that everyone now knows he can really be.


End file.
